


Whispers of the Past

by PinkPandorafrog



Series: Words, Words, Words [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Little bit of smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony told her to stand on the thing and press the other thing, and now Darcy's stuck in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers of the Past

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Words on my skin, love in my heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759835) by [amusewithaview](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview). 



“Ho-lee shit. Say, Stark, is this some kind of machine meant to bring pinups to life?” The red-haired man with a truly extraordinary mustache was _looking_ at her. Really looking at her, like he was seeing her in the pages of some magazine or something.

“No, a time machine. Can't quite get it working, though, why?” The distracted-sounding voice drifted over from somewhere behind the redhead.

“You should see this.”

Darcy straightened up, closing her sweater around herself. Her hands went to her hips, and she stared back at the man. In just a second, there was another man just behind him, less impressive mustache, but something very _familiar_ about him. Of course, if his last name was _Stark_ and this thing really was a time machine...

The second man let out a low whistle. “How'd you get here, honey?”

Darcy ignored the question, focusing on him. “Stark? As in...”

“Howard Stark.” The slight puffing out of his chest that she was all too familiar with.

“That motherfucking cocksucking son-of-a-bitch!” Darcy's eyes immediately started scanning around the room. She was in some sort of wide room that looked a lot like Tony's lab had had a baby with a warehouse, and nothing like Tony's actual lab.

Dead. Silence. Then, “You always this colorful, miss?” The red-haired man looked slightly taken aback by her torrent of invectives.

“Only when I'm dealing with a Stark.” She was focused directly on Howard Stark. “Your son-” and then she realized what the other man had said. “There's no fucking way this is happening right now. I'm gonna kill him. And then I'm finding a way to bring him back, _so I can kill him again_.” Those words, those exact words, written in black just under her clavicle.

Stark's eyebrow went up. “Mouthy. Figures.”

“Yeah, but look at her.” Another lengthy perusal _like she wasn't standing right fucking there_.

Darcy fought the urge to wrap her sweater so tightly around herself that she couldn't breathe. “Standing right fucking here, by the way. You maybe wanna pretend you have manners and stop acting like I can't see and hear you?” She shook her head and turned back to Stark. “Okay. So, your son- I assume- was all, 'stand on the thing and press the other thing while I fuck with the doohickey,' and so I stood and pressed, and now I'm here, and you need to get me back so I can end your genetic line.”

“You a scientist, honey?” Stark asked, eyebrow again raised.

“Uh, it's _Darcy_ , and I'm a PR manager.”

“Darcy,” from the redhead, like he was tasting it. “I'm Dum Dum Dugan.”

She glanced over at him, her eyes flicking over him dismissively. “I'm not calling you that.” Silence again. She turned back to Stark. “I heard you say that this thing isn't supposed to work, but it obviously _does_ , so you need to do whatever genius engineering bullshit you need to do to get me back. Now.”

Stark considered her for a long moment before turning away. He walked to a desk and picked up the receiver of the black telephone that was sitting there.

“Tim.”

Her eyes snapped back to the other man. He was no longer looking at her the same way Jane looked at coffee. “What?”

“My name. Sergeant Timothy Dugan, at your service.” He swept off the brown bowler with the chevrons on the front- his rank- and offered her a slight bow.

She was smiling despite herself. She didn't want to be smiling. She didn't want to acknowledge that she liked the way his brilliantly blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. She'd gone this long without her soulmate- now she knew who it was, and she could go back to her own time without that hanging over her head.

He offered her his hand, and she walked forward to the edge of the textured metal circle she was standing on to take it. He had a firm handshake- not crushing- and he released her after just a moment.

Stark came back. “Well, Peggy's on her way,” he said, as if that somehow solved everything.

Darcy raised her eyebrows and gave him her best I'm-not-impressed-with-your-bullshit look. The same one she'd given Tony not too long ago. “Because _her_ genius engineering brain is going to get me back?”

“Because Peggy always has a plan.”

“Yeah, I have a fucking plan, too. Fix the thing and get me back.” Her hands were on her hips again- seriously, this was _just_ like dealing with fucking Tony, only without the possible threat of bringing in Pepper for back-up.

Well, he'd been married, maybe this Stark had his own version of Pepper.

“I can't.” That came out clipped, like the very fact was frustrating him beyond belief. “If I _could_ get it fixed, it would _be_ fixed.”

Darcy's eyes widened as she stared at him. “Okay, no. That's not... No.” _Stuck_ here? Stuck _here_? That was so far beyond the realm of being okay it was on another fucking planet.

“I'm missing a component. I _know_ what I need, I just can't get there. So if you weren't being entirely honest with me earlier about your being a scientist, you need to tell me.” Stark folded his arms across his chest and he appeared to be looking at her in some suspicion.

She just rolled her eyes. “Believe me, if I knew, I would have already told you.”

Tim was standing at her side, taking in this exchange silently. He looked serious, very serious.

The door at the far end of the room opened, and a woman in a neat skirt and blouse and a pair of black heels that Darcy instantly coveted came marching across the room. “What's so important that you pulled me out of a meeting with the CIA? I hate it when you're coy, Howard.” She stopped on Howard's other side, her hands going to _her_ hips, and if this no-nonsense woman was this Stark's Pepper, Darcy had just hit the fucking jackpot.

Stark gestured to her. “This is Darcy...”

“Lewis,” Darcy supplied helpfully.

“She's standing in my time machine. My non-functioning time machine.”

The other woman's eyes took Darcy in with a practiced efficiency. “When are you from?” she asked, her crisp English accent the epitome of efficiency.

“2014.”

“Oh, good heavens.” The other woman's eyes took her in again. “Let me... cancel my meeting.” She moved over to the sturdy desk with the black phone on it.

Darcy could see Tim staring at her out of the corner of her eyes, and she glanced up at him. “Peggy will sort it out,” he told her, tone reassuring.

They ended up sitting in a motley group of mismatched chairs around the desk, glasses of brandy all around. The other woman, Peggy, was staring at her with a completely neutral expression. “How do I know that you're actually from 2014 and not a Russian spy?”

Darcy wasn't quite sure how to answer that. Luckily, though, the redheaded man piped up. “She's my soulmate, Peggy. My soulmate couldn't be a Russian spy.”

Peggy glanced at the man, and then back at Darcy with renewed interest. “Did you check, or are we just going on coincidence and her word?”

Darcy pulled her sweater away. She was wearing a tank top underneath, leaving the entirety of her soulmark bare.

Stark looked like he was going to swallow his tongue.

Peggy looked at Tim, who nodded. “Let me see your wrists.”

“My... wrists?” Darcy shrugged and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows, holding her wrists across the table.

Peggy leaned forward over the table, her eyes fastening on Darcy's skin. “That mark, what is that?”

Darcy stared at her wrist. What mark? She had a tattoo... “My tattoos? I know you guys have tattoos now, what is this... fourty-eight?”

“Yes.” Peggy was giving her the same suspicious look as Stark had been. “And how do you know that?”

“Your shoes. I am a _huge_ fan of vintage shoes, it's kinda my thing. Anyway. I was drunk, and the whole Battle of Puente Antiguo thing, and all bitter about the whole soulmate thing, and I was all, 'Why shouldn't I bring the most important people in my life with me?'” She pointed to the small black bow with the star at one end. “That's Clint and Jane, and that's Erik.” Her finger drifted over to the black _Ansuz_ just beside the bow. “I got more later. Um, Thor's on my hipbone, but I think if I show you, Stark's eyes are just going to explode...”

“Stark!” Tim gave the other man a very disapproving look. “That's my soulmate.”

“Actually my own woman, but thanks.” Darcy rolled her eyes. She slid her sweater off one shoulder and twisted to show them the spider and green rose on the back. “That's Nat and Bruce, Tony's on my ankle, and this...”

She got up and turned her back on them completely, lifting her mass of dark hair off her neck to show them the red star set in a silver circle and the silver star set in a blue circle, side by side at the nape of her neck. “That's Steve and Bucky.”

Silence.

She turned back around to find them all staring at her. Peggy had gone pale, Stark looked _pissed_ , and Tim shook his head before burying his face in his hands. “What?”

“Steve and Bucky?” Peggy asked, voice strained. “That's a big coincidence.”

“Yeah. What did I- oh holy fuck. Oh shit. Oh god. I'm so...” She pressed her lips together between her teeth, eyes wide as she looked at them. “Oh, fuck me. This is... Uh, yeah.” She started speaking really quickly, her voice rising at least an octave as she paced across in front of the desk. “So Steve was frozen in a big block of ice, right, and they thawed him out a few years ago so he could keep on being Captain America, and then just last year he found Bucky, and Bucky was all brainwashed and they kept putting him in cryo and using him as an assassin and it was some real fucking bullshit, but the Steve found him and...” She looked between the three of them again, feeling pretty fucking close to tears.

This was it. This was absolutely it. There was no way they were going to believe that Steve and Bucky had just turned up almost 70 years after having been written off as dead, and there was no escape, no getting out of there. The desk, with the three people at it, was between her and the door, and even if she got to the door, she had no idea where she was and no idea where the fuck to go.

Tim stood. Was he going to kill her or something? He wasn't _armed_ , but he looked like the kind of guy who could- and probably had- killed with his bare hands.He took a step towards her, and then another one, and then he gently took hold of her upper arms and pulled her against his chest.

She froze there, tucked in his arms, unsure of what her next move was supposed to be. He wasn't... Going to kill her.

Slowly, she reached her hands around him, her fingers sliding over his white shirt until she was holding him as much as he was holding her.

They stayed like that for a while, his body blocking out the others in the room, so she couldn't tell what was going on over there. But he just held her, his large hands settling over her back.

Eventually he pulled away, and his face was a little red as he looked down at her. He didn't say anything, though, just went and sat back down in his chair, lifting his glass and polishing off his brandy in one go.

The other two already had empty glasses, and Stark picked up the bottle and filled them all again. Darcy eyed hers dubiously, deciding to give it a miss.

“My... son...” Stark said after a few drawn-out seconds of silence. “Is he one of your tattoos?”

“Yeah. Tony, on my ankle. He's...” She shook her head, giving him a rueful smile. “He's an ass. A complete and utter ass. I mean, loveable, charming, fucking brilliant, and just the biggest shit I've ever met.”

“Are you... seeing him?” Tim asked somewhat stiffly, startling a laugh out of Darcy.

“What? Fuck no. In his dreams, maybe. No, I'm-” _not going to tell my soulmate that I'm having casual sex on the reg with the god of thunder._ “Not seeing anyone seriously.” Although... That was an interesting thought. “Hold that thought.” She turned away from the desk and looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, Heimdall, if you can hear me, now would be a _super_ good time to Bifrost me out of here.” Nothing. She rested her hands on her hips for just a second before shrugging and settling herself down in her chair.

Three pairs of eyes, two brown and one brilliantly blue, stared at her with varying degrees of curiosity and concern. “Uh... You guys know about aliens yet?”

“How exactly did you get here?” Peggy asked, her voice considerably steadier than the last time she'd spoken. There was color in her cheeks again, too.

“I hang out with the scientists on my time off 'cause my bestie is an astrophysicist, and Tony was all, 'Hey, I need help with this thing my dad tucked away for a rainy day, you have an extra pair of hands that aren't doing anything.' So I went and helped him. He had me stand on the pad and push a thing while he fucked with a different thing, and then I blinked and was being leered at by this one.” Darcy's eyes flicked over Tim, and he had the grace to look at least somewhat sheepish.

“But _you're_ not a scientist.”

“Not in the slightest. I mean, I have a pretty good understanding of theoretical physics from my forever-long internship with Jane, but engineering is just...” She lifted her hand and waved it over her head.

“Does the device here look like the one you saw?” Peggy was holding her glass, but she inclined her head towards Stark's version of what was _apparently_ a time machine. That sure would have been nice to know beforehand.

Darcy followed the look, turning in her chair and peering over her shoulder at the thing. It was a textured metal circle on the ground, with a metal pole sticking up on one side that looked like one of those tall doctor's mirror things. “No. Tony's added a bunch of shit to his. I mean, I assume it was him, there's more stuff on it.” She stared at it for another couple of seconds before turning back with a shrug, resting her arms on the table.

“Would you be able to draw what you saw? Would that even help?” Peggy directed the last question to Stark.

“Yeah, I could try. Let you know what materials I think everything is made of.” Darcy suddenly found everyone focused on her again. “Jane made most of her own equipment until she got to the tower, I helped with a lot of it.”

“Even if we get it fixed, I might not be able to send you back,” Stark told her, leaning back in his chair like he was pretending to be casual but was actually bursting to get up and get moving on something. Fucking hell, Tony was _exactly_ like his father.

Darcy shrugged. “Not exactly like I'm going anywhere until we can figure it out.”

He sat forward, pulling out a drawer and taking out a pad of paper and a pencil. He set them down on the desk in front of Darcy, and she started drawing.

* * *

 

Three cups of coffee, a sandwich, and almost a full roll of tape later, Darcy had pretty much gotten it all laid out. She'd moved her project to the floor, simply because there wasn't enough room across the desk. After the first little while, Peggy had told Stark that she thought he had it well enough in hand and had left them. Tim was... Staying close. And she was pretty sure she caught him checking out her ass at least a time or two. Which was fair, yoga pants were pretty good at making her ass look fantastic.

Darcy sat back and surveyed her work, checking for anything that stood out to her as incomplete. “I think that's it.”

Stark materialized beside her, offering down a hand to help her up. She took it and let him pull her to her feet. “I hope it helps.”

She nodded. “I do too. Just... Let me know if you have anymore questions. I probably won't have answers, but I might.” She sighed. “What's the plan, Stark?”

“Plan?” He looked up from where his brown eyes were scanning over the copious amount of notes she made. “Plan for what?”

“Me?” She took a long, pointed look around the room. “Am I sleeping here? I don't exactly see a bed or anything. Not to mention, I'm probably going to get _awfully_ hungry with just brandy and coffee.”

His eyes flicked over her, and suddenly she was wishing for the sweater she'd taken off and left... somewhere. “I have somewhere you can stay.”

Darcy rested her hands on her hips. “If the next words out of your mouth involve _you_ somehow, I'm going to kick you so hard Tony feels it.”

He just fucking _smirked_ at her. “I have a townhouse that is currently unoccupied. I can get my driver to take you there.”

“I can do it,” Tim called from where was sitting at the desk. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “I can drive you there.”

Darcy was worn out enough that she just gave him a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“I want you to stay close, just in case I need you for something,” Stark told her. “But you're not a prisoner.” His eyes moved over her again, lingering. “I would recommend a change of clothes if you want to go out.”

She looked down at her tank top and yoga pants and sighed. “Yeah. Don't know where I'm going to get any clothes that fit, but I'll keep that in mind.”

“You're welcome to whatever you find at the house.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then decided that really wasn't a question worth asking. “Hey, have you seen my sweater?”

Tim pulled the dark blue woolen sweater off the side of the desk. He held it out to her as she walked over to him, neatly skirting the white paper laid out across the floor. Instead of handing it over, though, he held it to help her put it on, which she did, smiling as his fingers brushed over her shoulders.

It was a big red-brick factory/warehouse that they were in, she saw as he led her outside. “Where are we?” Darcy asked as he pushed open a side-door for her, and she stepped out into what looked like late afternoon sunshine.

“Virginia. SHIELD headquarters.”

Darcy looked down the alley to the end, where there was a large, boxy car parked. “I was in New York,” she mused. “It's quieter here.” It wasn't silent, of course, they were in the middle of a town somewhere, but there as a complete lack of the utter _depth_ of noise there was in Manhattan.

She moved around the car to get to the passenger side, somewhat surprised that Tim was right behind her. “Is this not... the car we're taking? I mean, I just assumed, 'cause I don't...” She trailed off as he reached past her and opened the door. “Oh. That.” _That_ was a slightly surreal feeling. No one had ever done that before, not in a social situation anyway. She slid in the car, and he closed it behind her. Immediately she went for the the seat belt, _but there was nothing fucking there_. “Oh.”

Tim had gone back around to the driver's side, opening it and sliding in himself. “You've never had a guy?” When she looked at him, eyes wide in confusion, he smiled. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“I've had... guys. This is just... Weird. This is weird.” He looked a little disappointed at her words. _So. Weird_.

He turned the car on and started moving, turning it to drive out of the end of the alley and out into the street. Darcy could just not stop _staring_. It looked, you know, normal. Familiar in that, we-all-live-in-America way, but it was so _different_. The people were different; more than just their clothes, they held themselves differently and moved differently.

“How are they?” The question actually startled her.

“What?” She tore her eyes away from the life they were driving past, turning to look at the man beside her in the car. “Sorry, I was...” She trailed off shaking her head.

“Steve, Bucky. How are they?” He was staring straight ahead, likely investing more attention into driving than he strictly needed to.

“Good, they're good.” She broke into a big grin. “I missed Steve's whole big 'O-M-G it's the twenty-first century!' thing, and Bucky's had a bit of a hard time, but I think having each other has really helped.”

“You're close?”

“Yeah. Steve helped me move in, I sit for him sometimes. You are not the first person I've heard the whole pinup thing from, but he wasn't leering at me quite so much when he said it.” She gave Tim a pointed look. “Bucky and I go dancing sometimes, and to the movies. He's a big fan of Pixar.” Which didn't exist in 1948. “Uh, cartoons made on computers? And I get to be platonic stand-in date for the whole fucking tower because, I don't know, I look good in a dress and I'm unattached or whatever. I know what you're doing, by the way.”

“What's that?” He glanced over at her.

“Looking for small, personal details that most people don't know. There's probably going to be a car or two of armed people sitting outside the townhouse. You don't trust me- I get it. Strange person shows up out of the middle of nowhere claiming a lot of strange shit- I've been where you are. And thank you for not tazing me, I super appreciate it.”

He was silent for a few moments. “You didn't ask to see mine.”

“Your... what?”

“Soulmark.” He sounded a little hurt.

“Oh. Yeah, I'm... I was lucky enough to have a soulmate who lives in the actual past. Denial, it's working pretty well for me.” Her eyes drifted back out of the window in her door.

“You could stay.”

“And do what? This big, beautiful brain of mine would go to waste as a secretary or something, although my WPM is pretty fucking awe-inspiring.” She made a face, shaking her head. “I am entirely too much of a feminist to live in the forties. I may take a few pairs of shoes back with me, though.”

Even his profile looked unhappy when she glanced over to investigate the silence. “What's... The face?”

He glanced over at her, eyes scanning her as though he was trying to decide whether or not to say what was on his mind. “I was brought up... When you meet your soulmate, you get married, settle down. House, kids... And any girl would be just tickled to get to it. I'm thirty-six, it's getting to be about that time. And here you are...”

Darcy digested this for a second. “Okay, but what about Peggy? I know for a fact that she met her soulmate, and neither settled down, nor got married. She's a woman.”

Tim made a noise of acknowledgment, like he'd heard what she said and didn't have a response for her.

She sighed. “Maybe if I, I dunno... Made a life here- fell in love, had friends or whatever, maybe I'd _think_ about staying. But I have a whole life waiting for me. Friends, a fantastic job... You have the potential to be the most perfect person there is for me on the entire planet, and I can accept that. You can't stick your whole life on one person, though. Not fair to them, not fair to you.” She glanced over, smiling a little. “If we met in 2014, I'd be more than happy to get to know you, and bang your brains out while I did it. Can't help but wonder how that _super_ impressive mustache would feel against my skin. But this isn't 2014, and something tells me that my favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon would get me a lot of judgy disapproval.”

He looked over at her at that, she could feel his eyes heavy on the back of her head. Her grin grew bigger and bigger as time stretched on, getting heavier by the second. “What's your favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon?”

“Put on a garbage movie that you don't really care about, and just not watch it. I like to start with a blowjob and end up on my back with my legs up around someone's ears, but I'm pretty flexible.”

Tim coughed. “At the pictures?”

“No, at home. There's a... you can watch movies at home on the TV. Or not watch them.” She was purposely trying to shock him. It was all true, that really was her favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon, but she'd brought it up because he had to get away from his whole ideal picket-fence scenario that he'd assigned her to in his head.

“Thought you didn't have a guy.”

“I don't. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy casual sex.”

“You're loose?”

Darcy shook her head, mouth spreading into a rueful line. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I can't do the forties. I prefer the term 'sexually liberated' or maybe 'free from oppressive misogyny,' but you call it what you want.”

The silence resulting from that lasted all the way to a nice-looking brick townhouse that Tim pointed out as they neared. It was very neat looking, and Darcy could already see a couple of not-very-inconspicuous black cars sitting out on the street as Tim parked out on the curb. She looked up and down the street without getting out of the car. “Are you supposed to stay here and keep an eye on me tonight?”

He took his hands from the steering wheel and sat back to look at her. “Yeah.”

“You wanna come in? No promises on the blowjob, but I can at least make you dinner.” He didn't answer right away, and Darcy sighed, turning in her seat to look at him. “The reason I said that was... yeah, it's actually my favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon. But you need to get rid of this ideal soulmate thing you have going on with the big wedding in virgin sacrifice white and the picket fence with the dog and 2.4 children or whatever. I'm not that girl. Although...” She sighed again. “If you're really that attached to the idea, it makes me wonder how we're actually soulmates. Maybe you should show me your thing.”

“Can I show you inside? I have to take off some clothes, and there's not a lot of room in here.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile, and Darcy found herself smiling too, releasing a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

“How much are you taking off?”

The expression on his face changed from friendly to something with a little more heat, and Darcy found herself turning towards her door, looking for the handle. She'd wondered if he had a setting between strictly platonic and I'm-eye-fucking-you, and apparently...

She pulled herself out of the car and stood, her hand on the top swinging it shut behind her. Tim was almost immediately at her side. “You should let me get that,” he told her, somewhat disapproving again.

She shook her head. “It's just... Weird. The only person who's ever done that for me was being paid to drive me somewhere.”

“They don't have manners in your time?”

“Well...” Darcy gestured in front of her like she was balancing a scale. “It's kinda... I open my own doors, but I get equal pay and job opportunities...” She shrugged. “I have hands.”

His hand came to rest in the small of her back and he gestured across the street. He didn't stop touching her as they moved, and she found she didn't mind. “You could work for SHIELD. Smart girl like you, I'm sure Peggy could find somewhere for you.”

“If Stark doesn't come through with his genius engineering brain, that's probably what I'll end up doing.”

They went up the front stairs, and Tim took out a key, unlocking the door and pushing it open for her. She went inside, hand immediately going for a light switch. It was a nice house, as neat inside as it was outside. It was well-furnished, well-maintained.

Darcy cooked, Tim pulled a bottle of wine out of somewhere and set the table, then sat down in the kitchen. This time, though, conversation came easily, and they traded stories. After dinner, he helped her with the dishes, which she was pleasantly surprised to find out she enjoyed. Then they sat at the table again, a glass of wine in front of each of them.

“Why...” Tim looked straight at her as he trailed off.

“Why what?” She figured she knew what was coming, but she wanted to hear him ask.

“Why do you feel how you do about soulmates?”

She sighed, looking away from the sincerity in his eyes. “My mom and dad were soulmates. And when Dad was sober, they were absolutely perfect for each other. But Dad was... A bit of a drinker. He got mean. And it seemed to hurt Mom more because they were supposed to be just perfect for each other. I'd rather have pretty good with someone else than _awesome_ and _horrible_ with my soulmate. And now you're... here.” Her eyes came back to his, forcing herself to meet them despite the pain she saw there. “I watched my mom give up her life for her soulmate and I always promised myself it wouldn't be me.”

“Most soulmates are happy together.”

“Sure. Jane and Clint are awesome. They're disgustingly happy together. But they have... Jane has science, Clint has the Avengers, they exist outside each other. If I'd met you in the street somewhere, we'd have something like that too. I meant what I said about being happy to get to know you and banging your brains out. But we don't have anything else- at least I don't. I don't have anything else here except this one very tenuous link to you.”

“But you could make a life for yourself here.”

“But I've made twenty-five years worth of life in 2014.” She settled back against the back of the wooden kitchen chair, folding her arms. “What if it was the other way around? What if you popped forward to the future?”

Tim frowned, picking up his wine glass and swirling the pale liquid a little. “I'm needed here.”

“Exactly. And maybe I'm not- what is it you do?”

He sort of smiled and raised his glass to her. “What don't I do? I'm the military head around here.” He took a drink.

Darcy banished thoughts of him in a uniform from her head immediately. Although... uniform. Fuck. “Maybe I'm not the head of an entire branch of SHIELD, but I handle PR for the Avengers. Some days it's deciding what to tell the public about who's trying to kill them, some days it's explaining why, exactly, part of New York blew up.” Her lips pulled up into a rueful smile. “Sometimes it's telling America _again_ that no, I'm not forwarding naked pictures to Steve. But... beyond that, I'm important to these people.”She pointed to the tattoos on her wrist.

He set the glass on the table again, twisting his fingers around the stem, almost unconsciously. “Let me take you out. Dinner, maybe some dancing... I'm no Bucky Barnes, but I won't step on your feet. Whatta you say?”

She was smiling again, he certainly had that talent. “Two conditions. You come up with something decent for me to wear that I don't have to sew myself, and you wear your uniform.”

“Baby doll, I haven't worn my proper uniform in public in...”

“Hey, if I have to put the girls on display, you can wear your uniform for me.” She lifted her wineglass and drained it, raising it to him when it was empty before putting it back firmly on the table.

* * *

 

He slept on the couch that night. And the next one. Darcy spent her days hanging around SHIELD, mostly as an extra pair of hands for Howard as he tried to figure out the time machine- apparently some habits were easier to fall into. Tim kept himself quite close to Howard's workspace too, and whether it was because he was her soulmate or because he was just that kind of guy, it was really easy to get to know him.

He found her a dress. Or rather, Howard found her a dress and had someone basically sew her into it. Darcy was far bustier than was considered fashionable, and it was difficult to find something, especially with the cinched-in waist. The girls were... Well... They were there. Most of them. _Right_ there. Like, look-down-and-smother there.

Howard let out a low whistle when Darcy stepped out of the small side room she'd been in with the dressmaker. “If you decide-”

She cut him off, lifting a hand up to stop him in his tracks. “Howard? Don't.” He smirked at her before turning his attention back to the time machine. “You sure you don't want me to stick around tonight?”

“No, I think Dugan might kill me, and I just have so much left to give.”

The door in the far wall opened, and Tim stepped in wearing the brown uniform she'd seen in a few of Steve's old pictures, and Darcy felt her knees get a little wobbly. “Well,” she said, unable to keep herself from staring. “That's a kink I never knew I had.” He was wearing the perpetual bowler, of course, but the dark uniform underneath practically made her mouth water.

Howard snickered. His throwaway, “Go on, honey,” earned him a glare, but Darcy walked the length of the room to where her date seemed just as blown away as she was.

“You look nice,” Darcy offered. “And by nice I mean I kinda just want to grab you and stick my tongue down your throat.”

He took both of her hands, gently pulling her close until he could bend down and kiss her cheek. She'd been right, the mustache felt great against her skin. And that was just her _face_. “Hey, so, um... Is there a, you know, closet or private room you can give me a tour of super quickly?”

Howard was having a choking fit. He was closer than he had been, and turning to look showed that he had a camera in his hands. He held up a finger as he tried to catch his breath. “Picture,” he wheezed.

Darcy turned to stand beside Tim, her hand sliding to rest in the small of his back, her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her, holding her closer, and her smile felt _natural_ as she waited for Howard to be able to hold still long enough to take a picture of them together.

The flash was blinding, and Darcy stood there blinking for a second before her eyes were functioning properly again. “Thanks for that. Fuck me, I'm never complaining about a phone flash again.”

“You kids have fun,” Howard said with a smirk as he turned and headed back towards his work at the other end of the room.

Darcy turned back to her date, resting her free hand against the dark wool covering his chest. “Closet? 'Cause I'm pretty hungry, but...” She rose up on her toes, hand sliding up to his shoulder for balance as she whispered in his ear. “I really want to blow you.”

“Right now?” he asked as she lowered herself to the heels of her brand new open-toe slingback pumps.

“Right now.” She gave him an entreating smile.

Tim was already reaching for the door behind him, opening it and stepping out into the hall beyond. He caught her hand, holding it as he started a quick pace that had her practically running to keep up.

She was just about to protest when he came to an unmarked wooden door and opened it. It looked like some kind of supply closet- shelves lined with stacks of paper and typewriter ribbons. After a quick glance to make sure no one else was coming, he pulled her inside and shut the door behind them.

It was dark. Like, pitch dark. Like, not able to see anything, dark. Darcy was grinning. She reached forward until she ran into the unmistakeable wool of Tim's uniform and sort of felt along until she got around to where his belt was. It took no time to open that, and then she was pushing down his pants and whatever shorts he was wearing underneath.

She found his leg, her fingers sliding along the coarse hair as she trailed her hand up until she got to his hip. Then it was just a matter of sliding in until she encountered his cock, already half-hard. Her fingers closed around him and he let out a muffled groan. “Can you move back a bit?” she murmured. She didn't want to drop to her knees, her dress would probably be ruined or she'd put a run in her stockings.

He shifted back just a bit and she stayed where she was, her hand stroking over his cock. She leaned over, mouth open, and wrapped her lips just around the tip.

Another muffled groan. He didn't grab her, he didn't start thrusting into her mouth, which earned him some bonus points. Slowly, she slid her hand down along his length, finger and thumb closed around him, followed by her mouth as she coated him with her saliva. He was definitely fully hard now and she couldn't quite get all of him in, but he seemed to be enjoying himself if the way his fingers came up to dig into her shoulder was any indication.

She tucked her lips around her teeth and started a slow slide back and forth, moving easily along the slickness she'd created. His other hand came to cradle the side of her head, not urging her, just holding her.

When he started rocking forward to meet her, she released him and ran her tongue in a long line over the seam on the underside of his cock. He groaned again, less muffled this time like he didn't care that someone might hear them.

Darcy licked her lips and opened them wide to engulf him, moving faster this time until she was bobbing back and forth, her nose brushing against his pelvis every time she moved forward. His fingers were shifting over her shoulder, and then he stilled, and she felt the pulse in the base of his cock before his hot, salty come flooded her mouth.

She slowed almost to a stop until he finished, then she released him and stood up, swallowing.

“You sure I can't convince you to stay?” he asked after a second, voice a little hoarse.

She smiled into the darkness, a little pang pulling at her heart, and didn't answer. “We should probably go and have dinner before they give away our reservations.”

“What about you, baby doll?”

“You can make it up to me later. You decent?”

She heard the zip of his fly, then the metal _chink_ of his belt buckle. “As decent as I get.”

Darcy felt behind her for the door, turning the knob and pushing it open. It was suddenly _very_ bright as she moved into the hallway, and she squinted against the obnoxious light. “Oh! My handbag.” Her lipstick was probably a _mess_. “It's in Howard's shop.” She went to move back down the hall towards the double doors at the end, but Tim caught her hand again, pulling her back towards him.

He didn't say anything, just looked down at her for a moment before he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. It started out chaste, just their closed lips pressing together, and then it wasn't. His mustache tickled against her skin as he parted her lips under his, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. He didn't seem to mind the remnants of his own semen as he kissed her, his arms locking behind her back to hold her close.

She shifted a little, angling her face for the kiss a little better as she laced her fingers behind his neck.

He explored her mouth, and when she sucked on his tongue a little, she found herself turned until she was pressed firmly against the wall. He pulled back, brilliant blue eyes staring down at her. “Darcy...”

That pang again. “We really should go, now. Just let me get my handbag. I'd say we might want to cut the dancing a little short, maybe. Just a suggestion.” She grinned up at him as she pulled out of his arms, her hand finding his as they went back down the halls towards the wide room at the end.

Howard was smirking like a fiend when he looked up as they opened the door. “Have a good time?” he asked innocently.

“I forgot my handbag.” They walked quickly through the room towards the far end.

He gave a pointed look to where it was sitting on the desk. “I know. Dugan, you've got a bit...” He lifted his hand and brushed at his lower lip, and Tim pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his mouth. Well, if her lipstick wasn't gone before, it certainly was now.

Darcy was just reaching over the desk to grab the small cream handbag that matched her dress when a swirl of multi-colored lights pulled her attention. “Howard?” She turned and stared at there the circle of lights was floating over the middle of the time machine. “Howard?”

He looked up, shaking his head. “I didn't do anything.” He stepped away from the circle, staring at it suspiciously.

“Does this look like what happened when I came here?” Darcy turned to look up at Tim, and he just shook his head.

“No, you just appeared. It was empty, and then you were there.” His eyes were trained on the circle and she noticed that he started shifting, putting himself between her and the time machine.

The circle grew until the bottom of the swirling disc touched the textured metal pad. A foot came through first, and then a leg, and then fucking Thor was standing there, Mjolnir held in his hand as he scanned the room.

“Thor!” Darcy pulled away from Tim, speeding towards her friend. She'd never been more relieved to see him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her clear up off the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” he replied, setting her gently down again. “I think Tony's life may have been in danger if I hadn't found you. Come, we must return; Jane isn't sure how long the bridge will stay open.”

“Sure, just let me...” Her heart sank. Like, just dropped to the fucking floor. She turned back to find Tim staring at her, face stoic except for a look in his eyes that only read as _lost_.

He shook his head at her, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and lifted his hand to wave.

“Tim...”

He shook his head again. “I know, baby doll.”

Darcy let Thor guide her backwards until she couldn't see those brilliant blue eyes anymore. It was a cold sensation, all shivery, and then it was gone.

Everyone was gathered in Tony's lab, just fucking everyone. Voices started pressing in on her all at once, but she shrugged them off.

It was Steve who put his arm around her shoulders and led her from the room, taking her away from the noise and the questions. He didn't ask any questions, just stayed by her side as she went up to her room and sat on her bed for a while, staring at the floor. When she leaned against him for the comfort of having someone with her, his arm came around her shoulders, and he just held her.

He went with her, too, when she went to Virginia to find that warehouse. It was still there, still under SHIELD operation, in fact, and _that_ brought up a lot of awkward questions on all sides.

But eventually- mostly due to Steve being Steve fucking Rogers- Director Coulson led her down to one of their storage rooms, where Darcy and Steve spent the rest of the day looking through boxes.

She found exactly what she was looking for. It was a picture, it had been framed and there was a wire on the back for hanging it. She was standing beside Tim in that gorgeous dress, their arms around each other, both the utter picture of happiness.

Wordlessly, she handed it to Steve. He took it, his eyes moving over the picture. “Oh, honey.” And he pulled her close and let her cry.

She took the picture when they left, tucked into one of the saddlebags on Steve's bike. Coulson had frowned at it, but he hadn't said anything.

“They got married, you know,” Steve told her as they stood together beside his bike, not quite ready to go yet. “Our soulmates. Had a couple kids.”

Darcy nodded. “Is he...”

“He died, about twenty-six years ago. I can take you to the cemetery if you want.”

Before she was born. That was a bit of a relief, she didn't know what to say if she met him again. She sighed, moving forward to rest herself against Steve's comforting presence, tucking her head under his chin as she put her arms around him. “Thanks, Steve. I think I really could have loved him.”

“He was a good man.”

“I'm glad they had each other.” Darcy sighed, shifting her cheek against the front of Steve's shirt. “Can we not go home yet?” She didn't want to face it, not yet. She didn't want to talk to Tony about his dad, to talk to Bucky about his friend.

“Sure, honey. Let's go for a ride.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The other thing I was working on while I wrote the other thing. So... It's a bit angsty. To follow up from the end (it didn't really fit in the fic) I think Steve and Darcy rode around for a little while and ended up getting together.


End file.
